by Solomon
“Vinnie, word on the street is that you really go for the Black chicks. It took us a minute, but I figured Marilyn and Bianca could track you down, and here you are,” Joey remarked as he took Marilyn’s spot on the bed.
“Joey, please. What’s goin’ on? I swear to you, I have no idea,” Vinnie vowed.
“Oh, you don’t? Good thing you’re not a choir boy, Vinnie, ‘cause God don’t hold our kind accountable for the bullshit,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna say one word, and if you don’t start talkin’ then I’ma start with your left nut,” Joey threatened, pulling out a .32 revolver. “Cleveland.”
Vinnie’s body tensed as if he were about to speak, but Joey put the cold steel to his left nut and Vinnie thought again.
“Whatever you wanna know, Joey.”
“The truth. Who brung ‘em in?”
Vinnie sighed.
“Frankie, Joey. Frankie Shots.”
“He wouldn’t have done it without my old man, if somebody else wasn’t backin’ him. Who was the someone else?” Joey probed, jamming the pistol down into Vinnie’s groin and making him see stars.
“I swear, Joey, I don’t know. I only dealt with Bagels. Benny Bagels, but he made it clear he had Frankie’s nod!”
“What about Peter Amuso? Where does he fit in?”
“Pete set it up in Cleveland. He was freelance! A go-between!” Vinnie answered.
“So this wasn’t Gambino? You tellin’ me Amuso set me up, but fuckin’ Gotti knew nothing?” Joey gruffed.
“I don’t know, Joey. I swear to fuckin’ god! All I know is Frankie wanted to send a message!”
Joey frowned. “A message?”
Vinnie nodded vigorously.
“It wasn’t a hit, Joey; it was a message. Bagels made that clear. He kept tellin’ me, make sure I don’t hit neither one of ‘em, make sure I don’t hit neither one of ‘em!”
The clarity of the situation smacked Joey in the face.
“Are you sure? He said neither one of ‘em!”
“Like a thousand times!”
“How long before the hit did he say this?”
“A week, maybe two. I don’t know, Joey. I swear to ya!” Vinnie begged.
Te Amo…
His head was spinning, but he didn’t let it show.
“Joey, I woulda never got involved had it been a hit,” Vinnie tried to explain.
Joey chuckled and patted Vinnie on the cheek.
“Of course. I mean, after all it was only a message, right?”
“Joey. Never!”
“Hey, lemme give you a message, eh,” Joey spat coldly, then gave Bianca a nod.
She spat the razor into her hand, grabbed a fistful of Vinnie’s hair then snatched his head back and slit his throat, ear to ear. His eyes bulged and blood gurgled out. In less than a minute, he was dead.
Make sure you don’t hit either one of ‘em, he thought, because now it all made sense.
Te Amo.
Present Day 1997
“So Mr. Provenzano, you said that Mr. Romano’s ‘angle’ opened the doors for Mr. Diamanti to be inducted into the Mafia?” the Prosecutor reiterated.
Joe Pro shrugged. “More or less.”
“Could you be more specific about Mr. Romano’s angle?”
“Romano wanted to control the West Coast, without ‘controlling’ it, if you get my drift,” Joe Pro explained.
“So, Mr. Diamanti would be the means to that end,” the Prosecutor replied.
Joe Pro gave him the pursed lip of an impressed expression.
“You catch on quick, counselor. You must be Sicilian,” Joe Pro cracked.
Many in the courtroom chuckled. Even the Prosecutor had to smile.
“So, yeah, the Piazza hit was Joey’s ticket, but only after the sit down with Romano and Don Vincenzo, Joey’s father. I mediated, and that’s how I came to be involved,” Joe Pro explained.
“Could you elaborate,” the Prosecutor requested.
“You see,” Joe Pro began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “Romano needed my vote on the Commission to pull this thing off. Besides, I’m the last of the original Bosses, so my say carries a lot of weight. So Sal, he knows I can see what he’s doing, so he cuts me in. Let’s me wet my beak.”
“Pay you off,” the Prosecutor interpreted.
“Exactly. So once I’m on board, no one can oppose him, and Joey takes over the Coast in the name of the Commission, but once he’s made, he’s really an extension of the Romano regime.”
“How so?”
“Because, when the books were opened, he got listed as one of Romanos, ya see?” Joe Pro remarked.
“I do.”
“Okay…but before the Boss of Bosses died in prison—God rest his soul—he sent for Joey. Now I can’t say what happened at the meeting, because I wasn’t there, but when Joey came back, he helped the goombahs push me out,” Joe Pro spat with disgust and locked gazes with Joey.
“Push you out?”
“Yeah, he backed the friggin’ guy Carmine Graziano over me! Sixty years in this business, and I get pushed by young punks! Joey backs the guy, and Sal figures, hey no Joe Pro and I can control the Commish myself. But what he don’t know is, Joey’s caught on and now the pawn’s gonna be king. Sal pushed out his only ally ‘cause he thought he had a friend!” Joe Pro laughed, still looking at Joey. “The kid’s smart, but I couldn’t stand by and do nothin’. So I switched governments, and here I am.”
Joey sat and listened to the words because they were directed at him. It was true that he had helped push Joe Pro out, and now he heard why Joe Pro decided to become a cooperating witness.
Sour grapes. Plain and simple. Joey would learn from that mistake in the future.
“Now, Mr. Provenzano, just for the record, you spoke of the ‘Boss of Bosses’. Who were you referring to?”
“The Don of Dons. My Don, Don Tino Gigante.”
May 1992
It felt good to be back in Miami.
Enrico loved to travel, but Miami would forever be his home. He had just come from Chicago; another successful drop and a weekend with Paul. He had seen him several times over the past few weeks, and on each occasion their time together grew sweeter. Paul’s embrace made him crave Joey’s cruelty in order to justify the affair. Fueled by his guilt and need for attention, each tryst gave Enrico reason to look forward to the next.
Enrico unlocked the door of his condo. He paused in the darkness. Sniffed. His stomach flipped and the butterflies fluttered, all against his will.
“Hello, Joey,” Enrico greeted. He couldn’t see him in the dark, but he could smell him. The place smelled like Courvoisier.
Joey clicked on the lamp. He was sitting on the couch, a bottle of Courvoisier in one hand and a .45 in the other.
“I gotta watch you too?” Joey slurred.
“You’re drunk,” Enrico stated, matter of factly.
“I had to get up the nerve.”
“For what?”
“To kill you,” Joey replied, holding the gun out, aimed at Enrico.
“You’re not going to kill me, Joey,” Enrico chuckled.
“Yeah? What makes you so sure?” Joey questioned.
“You would’ve packed a revolver.”
Joey smirked. “Yeah, well maybe I oughta kill you.”
“Why?”
Joey struggled to his feet, hit the Courvoisier and approached Enrico. “Because I can’t trust none of you,” Joey replied. His cold blue eyes cutting through Enrico. “Nobody can be trusted.”
“I’ve never given you a reason to say that about me, Joey,” Enrico remarked, because Joey’s gaze was beginning to become unnerving.
Joey stopped directly in front of Enrico.
“But you will.”
“You act as if you want me to.”
Joey caressed Enrico with the fingertips of the hand that held the gun.
“Who is he, eh? Who is he?” Joey questioned, smelling and kissing Enrico’s neck, running his to
ngue from his ear to his throat. “I can smell him all over you.”
Enrico closed his eyes and enjoyed the seduction.
“Nobody,” he whispered.
“Nobody as in nobody, or nobody as in he doesn’t matter?” Joey quipped, kissing Enrico, caressing his tongue with his own.
After the kiss, Enrico groaned, “Both.”
Joey dropped the Courvoisier, spilling the remnants on Enrico’s plush carpet. He used his free hand to grope Enrico's body lustfully.
“You gonna betray me, too? You gonna betray me like Te Amo?” Joey asked, pulling up Enrico’s skirt.
“Never,” he gasped. “Never.”
“Never say never.”
“I love you,” Enrico declared, covering Joey’s neck and face with kisses and licks.
He fumbled with Joey’s jeans, the heat of the moment building, until Joey dropped the gun, lifted Enrico off his feet and impaled him with his hard, pulsating dick, as Enrico wrapped his legs around Joey’s waist. Joey spread his cheeks and plowed into him deeper, making Enrico cry out his name, his screams shattering the thin Paul facade over his raw passion for Joey. They spent the night fucking passionately; sleep only coming when it couldn’t be denied. In the morning, Enrico asked, “How did she betray you?”
Joey smoothed Enrico’s hair.
“Forget about it. I was drunk.”
“You never get drunk enough to say what you don’t mean,” Enrico countered.
“It doesn’t matter; it’s just the nature of a woman.”
Enrico studied Joey’s face then asked.
“Do you think I would ever betray you?”
“I don’t think about it. Should I?”
“No.”
“Then you’ve answered your own question.”
Enrico’s guilt made him kiss Joey like he was apologizing. The nature of a woman; that’s what he would blame his betrayal on.
They parted in the underground garage. Joey went to New York, while Enrico would stay in Miami, awaiting another shipment. Neither knew that they were under surveillance.
“What do we have here? A secret lover?” one agent quipped as he and another agent watched the monitors in an unmarked van.
“I thought his lover was Paul.”
“I guess queers cheat, too.”
Laughter.
The agent looked at Joey again.
“Hey Dave, can you get me in closer?”
The camera zoomed in. The agent’s eyes got as big as plates.
“Holy shit! Do you know who that guy is?”
“You know him?”
“Who doesn’t? I worked O.C. long enough. Hell, half the country knows that face!”
The other agent got amped.
“Looks like this case just took on epic proportions.”
“We snag the queer tonight.”
“I’ll get the S.A.C. on the phone.”
That night, Enrico was leaving a phone booth where he had just set up the final points for the incoming flight. All of a sudden, three unmarked Crown Victorias skidded up and surrounded him.
“Out of the car!”
“Now! Now!”
“Move!”
It all happened so fast that Enrico didn’t know if he was being arrested or kidnapped. The agents wasted no time cuffing him and shoving him into the back seat of one of the unmarked cars. Then they all drove off. The agent in the passenger side turned halfway around in the seat.
“You’ve got until we reach the Federal building to either play ball or go away for a very long time.”
“I want to talk to my lawyer. I have nothing to say,” Enrico shot back calmly.
“Suit yourself, but listen to what we’ve got and see what you’re up against,” the agent retorted.
He started flipping through black and white surveillance photos.
“We have a baggage handler in Milwaukee, two plane mechanics in L.A., two warehousemen in New York, and a stewardess. Each one is ready and willing to name you the boss of an international smuggling ring. You want a lawyer? I say you call two, ‘cause you’re going to need ‘em!”
On each picture, Enrico recognized faces. Some were of people while they were talking to Enrico, one of the Feds’ favorite psychological ploys. Enrico saw that this wasn’t just a bust. He had been the focus of an investigation. The agent saw the look on his face and thought he had one on the hook.
“What if I agree to…cooperate?”
“Then we drop you off and no one knows you got pinched. But from that moment on, you work for us. You belong to us. You try and fuck us, we’ll fuckin’ fry you,” the agent threatened.
“Okay,” Enrico agreed. He needed to buy some time as well as warn Joey. At that point, he was ready to sacrifice everyone except himself and Joey.
The passenger nodded to the driver. The driver hung a right and they headed for an out-of-the-way motel. Once inside, they took the cuffs off Enrico, sat him at the small table in the room and sat a tape recorder in front of him.
“Now…tell us about Diamanti.”
Enrico looked at the little spinning wheel of the recorder, licked his lips and began to talk.
“Why are you having me followed?” Te Amo asked.
They were at the premiere for Marty’s newest movie. Te Amo hadn’t seen Joey for days. He wouldn’t accept her calls, he hadn’t been home or anywhere she could reach him. When she spoke to his bodyguard Mike, he was evasive. She couldn’t even get a straight answer out of Bianca when she confronted her.
“Bianca, never forget who you work for. You work for me, not Joey,” Te Amo warned her.
Bianca had simply smiled and walked away.
That’s when Te Amo noticed that she was being followed wherever she went. It was obvious. They didn’t even try to hide it. She didn’t recognize the faces. She figured they were freelance. Regardless, she didn’t like it, and she intended to confront Joey about it. She knew he’d be at the premiere because he was in the movie.
She spotted him in Marty’s living room, talking to a female director. By the way the woman reacted to her presence, Te Amo knew that Joey had fucked her. Te Amo cut off all conversation with the bluntness of her statement.
“Why are you having me followed?”
Joey looked at her coldly, as he turned to the director and said, in Italian, “I’ll talk to you later.”
The woman nodded and stepped off. He turned to Te Amo.
“You speak that way in front of strangers? Maybe instead, I should have you baby sat,” he spat, walking off.
Te Amo jumped in behind him.
“Fuck you, Joey! Answer my question.”
“I don’t know what you're talkin’ about.”
They went into Marty’s study and closed the door, shutting themselves off from the party.
“Joey, you’re making it very clear that something’s wrong,” Te Amo accused. “You don’t return my calls, you haven’t seen me in weeks, and you put a bunch of fuckin’ amateurs on to follow me? For what? What are you trying to tell me, Joey? Here I am! Say it to my face!” Te Amo vented, getting all her stress out in one rant. She was fuming because she felt rejected and didn’t understand why.
“You’re paranoid, okay? I don’t return your calls? You’re a big girl; you can figure it out. I’m bored witcha. Whatcha need, a bullhorn? Go home. Maybe I’ll write,” he replied coldly.
Every word felt like a slap in the face, but Te Amo didn’t let it show.
“I’m not one of your flunkies, Joey, or one of your floozies—female or otherwise,” she smirked. “Don’t forget, I’m a boss too. You think I’m calling you for you? I’m calling because you seem to have forgotten the facts of our agreement.”
“You wanna be a boss, be a boss,” Joey shrugged. “Matter of fact, why don’t you take over the whole operation, Coast to Coast? I’m getting out of the distribution business. So it’s yours…Boss.”
The two of them eyed each other down, neither being able to say what they truly wan
ted, because the stakes had gotten too high for emotions.
“You think that’s it? You think you can just use me, use my family, and then toss us the crumbs,” Te Amo gritted. “You’d better think again.”
“Whaddya want from me? I offer you a multimillion-dollar operation and you call it ‘crumbs’? I’d offer you my soul, but the devil’s got first dibs,” he cracked.
“You know what, Joey? You can go to hell,” Te Amo retorted, then walked out.
“I’m already in hell,” he yelled after her, “and it feels like home, you muthafucka!”
As soon as Enrico walked into the hotel room, he walked straight into Paul’s kiss and embrace.
“I came as soon as I could,” Paul told him. “Now, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Like I said over the phone. I got busted, but Joey doesn’t know.”
“That’s all you said, though. And truthfully, I’m not sure if I understand.”
Enrico sighed.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with criminals for so long, I’ve forgotten how our world must look to honest, law-abiding people.”
“You make me sound like Opie,” Paul joked, making Enrico smile. For that he was thankful.
“The reason Joey doesn’t know I got arrested is because I made a deal on the spot to cooperate.”
“Oh, I see.”
“What else was I supposed to do? They have me over a barrel and they didn’t give me any time to make a decision.” Enrico tried to explain, but Paul took him by his arms and looked him in the eyes.
“Hey Celeste, you don’t have to justify anything to me. I’m here for you. Just walk me through it so I can understand.”
They sat down on the edge of the bed.
“My intention was to just get away with telling them as little as possible and then warning Joey that the operation was blown. But the first thing they asked about was Joey!” Enrico told him.
“Joey? Your guy, Joey?” Paul probed, a tinge of jealousy in his tone.
“Paul, I’m sorry.”